


Absent Minded Musings

by Kingofree



Series: Wine and Guitars [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Set before Francis has roomies, Wine and Guitars, a little world building, an attempt at figuring Francis out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:47:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29768148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingofree/pseuds/Kingofree
Summary: Francis is the heir to a restaurant empire who manages their Mediterranean interests and Arthur is the youngest brother in the Kirkland Supply Company who happens to be in charge of the Mediterranean branch. They've known each other a long time though and Francis can't help but get lost in thought when Arthur is just trying to bring a supply issue to his attention.
Relationships: England/France (Hetalia)
Series: Wine and Guitars [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141400
Kudos: 7





	Absent Minded Musings

**Author's Note:**

> This is before Francis was rooming with Toni and Gil in the Wine and Guitars verse. Just a peek into what Francis does for a living and what Arthur's connection to everything is. I wrote this to try and get into practice writing Francis again and it was a lot harder to write than I expected.

Francis thought beer was gross. He didn’t mind cider and hard liquor was for getting drunk, but if he was drinking to enjoy the drink he always reached for wine. His friends liked to joke it was because he was French. Francis knew it was because he’d been raised to have good taste. With his father being the owner of several world renowned restaurants, and a major investor in other smaller ventures, he really had little choice but to know what was good and what wasn’t. 

And he did know what was good when it came to food and drink. He’d been groomed to take over the family business and that included being able to decide on menus, beverages, and décor. He’d gone to school for business with an emphasis on the hospitality and entertainment industry and he was damn good at what he did. 

Which was probably the only reason they still had a contract with the Kirkland supply company. A lesser man would have cut ties with them years ago if they had to deal with the insufferable man that was in charge of their Mediterranean branch. Oh he was handsome enough, if you disregarded his abrasive personality, but it was difficult to ignore when the man couldn’t keep his mouth shut long enough to stop insulting Francis every time they had to meet. 

“Are you even listening to me, frog?” 

Which was far less often for Francis’ liking, if he were being entirely honest. He couldn’t fathom how he’d been in love with this man since they were in school together. There was honestly very little to redeem him once he started talking. 

“Bonnefoy? I’m going to charge you 200% for the next five orders.”

Perhaps it had been the leather coat and the cigarettes? He  _ had _ seemed like something of a bad boy back then. One of the only people Francis knew who could smuggle cigarettes and alcohol into their boarding school when they were young thanks to his oldest brother being friendly with one of the teachers. That had certainly been a perk of being friends with him. 

“ _ Bonnefoy?!” _

Now that he thought about it, the wine had probably been what started these feelings in him. Truly. There was no way he’d have ever found this oaf  _ charming _ in his right mind even as a teenager with questionable judgement. If their fathers hadn’t been old school friends as well, he probably never would have even looked twice at the other boy. They definitely hadn’t run in the same sorts of social circles. 

_ “FRANCIS!” _

Oh, was he done already? “Oui, Arthur? There is no need to yell. I am right beside you, non?”

There was the annoyed scowl he was familiar with. Those bushy eyebrows drawing down to shadow mossy green eyes.    
  
“You weren’t paying attention, you bloody frog. Do you even know what I was talking about?”

What he was talking about? Ah right, the shipment of alcohol for the new restaurant he was working on opening in Florence. “Of course I know what we were talking about, cher. You still want to supply English beer to my French restaurant, oui? And I said no, because it is not a pub it is a fine dining establishment. I ordered wine, cider, and a few select beers from the local area’s breweries since those are almost always good sellers. I don’t need English  _ ale _ or whatever you would have suggested we import.”

Really, it was too easy to rile Arthur up.

That red face got even more heated and Francis braced himself for the tirade about to come his way. 

It never came though. To his pleasant surprise the man beside him remained silent. There were no snide remarks about how ale was better than wine or about how Francis was too pretentious. Instead Arthur looked like he’d sucked on a lemon and found it entirely unpleasant. That expression wasn’t unusual, but the silence accompanying it was and Francis worried that maybe he’d broken the man after all these years. 

Francis watched Arthur’s chest rise in a deep breath, then fall as he exhaled. It happened a few more times and then, finally, the man’s mouth opened. Here it came, the tirade. Maybe he’d just needed a minute to get his breath for yelling? He did run out of breath fairly easily thanks to his years of smoking. 

Given the usual course of their arguments, Francis was fairly certain he could be forgiven for running directly into a stack of boxes when the expected curses didn’t come and instead a forcefully even tone accompanied surprisingly civil words. 

“I wasn’t going to suggest ale. I didn’t even bring up English beer,” the ‘ _ this time _ ’ went unsaid. “I have been trying to tell you that the supplier for the Bruton you selected said their stock is on back order due to an unusually small batch at the brewery. I was asking if you wanted to wait to order it until they have better stock or if you wanted to find a different supplier.”

It sounded like the words were being ground out between clenched teeth. Arthur must have gotten sick or something, that had been an almost polite response to his dismissal of the man’s usual assertion that English ale was a perfectly fine addition to any restaurant no matter it’s theme. 

  
  


Arthur didn’t need to look so alarmed as he came to halt, mouth open unattractively and eyes wide as he stared down at Francis in a pile of cardboard. “Francis? What the-, are you okay?!”

The Englishman didn’t  _ need _ to help him up either, but Francis appreciated the hand held out to him anyway. He took it and grunted when he was pulled up onto his feet and helped out of the now ruined boxes. They’d been empty, thankfully, waiting to be filled. Some of the workers at the warehouse were looking at him; that was a little embarrassing.

He needed to give him a response, didn’t he? He definitely did. “Oui, I’m alright Arthur. Very sorry for running into those. I got distracted.”

A charming smile on his face, he hooked his arm in Arthur’s and started them walking again toward the door. The sooner they could get out of this place and get some lunch with their business the better. Thinking of business, Arthur had said that the supplier they were sourcing didn’t have enough stock for his order. It was probably alright to hold off but he wanted the soft opening to go off without a hitch.

Francis was very good at his job and usually he could make difficult calls with no problem so why was his mind stuttering on this? It wasn’t a hard choice. He just had to make it. Good god, Arthur was frowning at him now in that way that meant he wasn’t irritated but instead worried. It had been a long time since he’d seen that frown but not so long he didn’t recognize it for what it was.

“Listen frog, are you okay? You’ve been  _ distracted _ all day. Maybe we should talk about this later? You wanted to do a working lunch, yeah? Let’s make it just a lunch instead and I’ll send a list of potential suppliers to you this afternoon.”

Maybe Francis himself was broken, if even Arthur felt the need to worry about him like this. 

“Alright. I’ll look the list over and have a decision by tomorrow. Where would you like to go for lunch?”

Sharp blue eyes fixed themselves to chapped lips as Arthur smiled at him and oh. Oh right. This was why he’d fallen in love with this man all those years ago. His smile lit up the world around Francis in a way no one else had ever been able to. His begrudging affection for Francis, even as Arthur denied his occasional confessions, was what made the day easier to get through. 

This aching love of his was why he’d agreed to be put in charge of the supply chain for their entire Mediterranean operation. Because it would put him in frequent contact with this grouchy, wonderful man.    
  
“Why don’t we eat at the pub down the road? It’s close and they carry Vargas wine.” Arthur tucked the clipboard he’d been holding under his arm and the man tilted his head toward the door in invitation. He didn’t really want to eat at the “pub” style restaurant Arthur favored, but the peace offering of wine and the hesitant way the man looked at him made it impossible for him to disagree. 

He’d just have to hope they had something less greasy for him to eat. “Oui, sounds good. You know I can’t resist a good Vargas.” Francis chuckled and followed the other blond out of the building. 

It might not have been his best day spent with Arthur, but ending it with wine and food could only count as a win as far as he was concerned. Now if he could just get the stubborn man to accept his obvious love for Arthur. 

But that was a fight for another day.

**Author's Note:**

> I may write more about their relationship, but this series is mainly going to focus on Antonio and Lovino I think. Seeing as it's named Wine and Guitars and all.


End file.
